


Cut Through the Noise

by milou407



Series: Soulmarks [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Derek "Nursey" Nurse is Unchill, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Overuse of the Word Chill, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Semi-Canon Compliant, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, William "Dex" Poindexter-centric, soul colors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-26 20:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30111678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milou407/pseuds/milou407
Summary: There’s a subgroup of soulmarked people that are glossed over. They’re not brought up in polite conversation, and whenever they’re mentioned, the temperature in the room drops a few degrees. People who are unreciprocated make up about 0.5 percent of the population, but most people would rather pretend they didn’t exist at all.Will Poindexter wishes he didn’t have this knowledge firsthand.
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz & Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, Chris "Chowder" Chow & Derek "Nursey" Nurse & William "Dex" Poindexter, Chris "Chowder" Chow/Caitlin Farmer, Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Soulmarks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2215830
Comments: 20
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Nursey/Dex sequel/companion piece to "Know That I Can Be Frustrating", and you don't have to have read that one first, but it may help! 
> 
> All the thanks to my beta, electric_typewriter, who does the Lord's work

_ “Recent census data has shown that the prevalence of unreciprocated soulbonds has increased over the last three decades, as well as the number of partnered non-soulbonded pairs and groups. It is worthwhile to note that this may be due to a reduction in stigma rather than an increase in the frequency of the formation of unreciprocated bonds, however even a significant reduction in stigma isn’t enough to account for the nearly 300% increase documented.”  _ – Prevna et al., _ “Trends in the Development of Unreciprocated Soulbonds”,  _ Journal of Chromodermatology, 2015.

There’s a subgroup of soulmarked people that are glossed over. They’re not brought up in polite conversation, and whenever they’re mentioned, the temperature in the room drops a few degrees. People who are unreciprocated make up about 0.5 percent of the population, but most people would rather pretend they didn’t exist at all.

Usually it’s an accident. Two strangers passing on a busy street, one person accidentally brushes the other’s wrist, a quick apology for what feels like a static shock, and then they’re gone. One of them gives a mark they don’t remember and the other is left with one they can’t forget.

Sometimes they find each other, in the end. The tried and true Hollywood story begins with a fruitless, heartfelt search, followed by a long-awaited and completely serendipitous reunion, then a joyful marking in return. These are the stories that rom coms are based off of, the ones that make it onto the bestseller list.

But sometimes they don’t. Sometimes one person is left with a mark and nowhere to turn. Either because they couldn’t find their soulmate, or because their soulmate wants nothing to do with them.

To add insult to injury, unreciprocated marks look strange. They appear to shift fluidly, like the way sunlight plays over water, but muddy and sluggish. Supposedly, they continue moving until the mark is returned, at which point they become static. The longer they remain unreciprocated, the slower the marks move, eventually stagnating into an occasionally shifting, unevenly pigmented blotch. But the one thing they never do is fade.

Will Poindexter wishes he didn’t have this knowledge firsthand.

\---

He doesn’t even remember when it happened, which is the most frustrating thing.

If it had been someone from his town, he could have figured it out. Fifteen hundred people isn’t actually that many, especially when there are even fewer that are unmarked and around his age, and Will’s good at being methodical. In time, he could check with them all.

But that’s not what happens. Instead he goes to a concert in Portland, a sixteenth birthday present from his parents. Somewhere in the crush of people crowding the stage, Will’s soulmate brushes up against his left shoulder. It’s loud and chaotic enough that Will doesn’t realize it’s happened until he goes to shower the next morning.

He stares in horror at the splotch in the mirror, unchanged despite the scrubbing he did in the shower. It’s a deep burgundy color and about the side of the palm of his hand, and Will stares at it for a full minute before he scrambles to put his shirt on.

This is definitely not ideal, but it’s not the end of the world, either. It’s not going to change anything, and Will is going to be  _ fine _ .

\---

Things are less fine than he thought they would be.

His mom cries when he tells her, which isn’t great.

His dad just looks away in quiet disappointment, which is honestly worse.

The pitying looks from his older brothers and sister are insufferable, so Will escapes outside with his younger ones instead.

He takes them to the park and watches as they chase each other around the small playground, waving at the other parents and babysitters also standing around, watching their own kids. They wave back, but Will can see the side-eyes and whispers already starting, the way his older brother’s friend’s gaze catches on his shoulder.

The last thing he wanted was attention, but in a small town anything weird or unexpected creates gossip and this will be no exception. He’d hoped it would take longer than this, that his parents would help keep it quiet. Apparently he was wrong.

Will hunches his shoulders and turns away, keeping his attention on his younger siblings to try and forget the way people are starting to stare. He forces a smile for Emma when she pulls him to the swings and focuses on playing with her instead.

\---

_ “If you haven’t been able to find your soulmate, don’t give up, but don’t get stuck in a rut either! Many people find that moving on and finding new experiences actually increases the chance of finding their soulmate, since your lives are destined to be intertwined. Try something new, like joining a hobby group or consider a career change!” –  _ Tanya Leblanc _ , Un No Longer! _

Being able to go to Samwell feels like a dream.

His merit aid and hockey scholarship mean he’ll be in only a slightly ridiculous amount of debt, and honestly, it would be worth it just to be somewhere new.

No one at Samwell knows he’s unreciprocated, and no one will unless he tells them. He can just play hockey and do his work and he’ll have everything he needs.

Everything will be fine.

\---

Will is possibly not fine.

This time it doesn’t really have anything to do with his soulmark, but he’s gotten pretty comfortable using it as a catchall whenever his life has gone to shit. It’s his unreciprocated soulmark, he can do what he wants with it.

Now, however, his problem has to do entirely with Derek Nurse, and so the blame rests solely on his (stupidly well sculpted) shoulders.

He’s just… so  _ fucking  _ irritating.

(And Will knows, he  _ knows _ , that when he’s uncomfortable he can be snappish and rude. He’s well aware his temper is on a hair trigger, he’s hotheaded, and the chip on his shoulder is glacial in size. He is  _ painfully _ aware that after two years of being stared at and whispered about, he can be overly sensitive. But he’s  _ trying _ .)

Nursey makes everything look so  _ easy _ , in a way that Will has never understood and desperately covets. Nursey is all quick smiles and light touches, dipping in and out of Will’s personal space like he belongs there. Nursey is poetry where Will stutters, easy grins where Will’s flustered. He doesn’t make any sense and it sets Will’s teeth on edge from the very beginning, before he’s ever called Dex.

Even his soul mark color is stupid and pretentious. Nursey calls it  _ burnt sienna _ , like it makes him  _ interesting _ , or something, to have a pretentious name for his color.

It’s fucking orange, alright? Dark orange, but still.

The coaches force them to train on the same line to get over the way they push each other away with all the stubbornness of magnetic poles. The frustrating thing is that when they stop snapping at each other long enough to work together, they really work. Dex is agile enough to turn on a dime, and Nursey’s so damn  _ fast _ that together they’re a force to be reckoned with.

One touch, though, is enough to send them spiraling back to where they started.

“Watch yourself, Poindexter, that’s the third time you’ve gotten in my way.”

“ _ Your _ way? You watch it, or I’m not going to keep you standing the next time you trip over your own skates,  _ Nurse _ .”

“With ears that big, I’m surprised you can’t hear me coming.”

“I can’t believe you don’t fall over more; your ego’s so fucking huge it must wreck your balance.”

“That’s not all about me that’s huge.” And then Nursey winks and Dex ends up tripping over himself and hitting the boards. Asshole.

\---

“Hey, man. Nice work today.” Holster’s hand lands heavily on Dex’s shoulder and he barely suppresses a flinch. “We’re gonna go get breakfast, do you want to join?”

Dex looks over Holster’s shoulder to where Ransom and Nursey are chatting by the doors. “No, I’m good. I’ve got an early class so I’ll probably just grab coffee from Annie’s.”

“Okay.” Holster frowns a little, then pats his shoulder before turning away. “See you later, bro.” Dex only feels a small twinge of regret as he walks off.

Dex likes Ransom and Holster, he really does. But being around them, watching them play together seamlessly and then bringing that synchronicity off the ice makes him  _ itch _ . It throws the uneasy truce he and Nursey have into sharp relief, bringing stark attention to all the gaps where the two of them don’t fit together quite right.

It’s an impossible standard to live up to. Ransom and Holster are  _ soulmates _ , the absolute best of friends, basically Jaeger co-pilots on the defensive line. There’s no way in hell Dex and Nursey can live up to that, especially in their first semester of playing together.

It isn’t even like anyone really expects him and Nursey to be anything like Ransom and Holster. He and Nursey aren’t soulmates, and if the coaches are disappointed with their performance on the ice, that has more to do with their attitudes than them not being perfectly in sync. There’s no one holding them to such high standards except Dex himself, and he knows both he and Nursey are desperately trying to get better.

But Dex  _ hates  _ it. He feels out of place, like a puzzle piece that’s being forced into a space he’s not supposed to fit in. He feels like if he weren’t there, Nursey would have a better partner. One who could anticipate what Nursey is thinking without hesitation, who doesn’t get into nasty arguments that end in one of them storming off the ice, one who could talk Nursey down properly when he gets anxious, instead of poking and needling at him the way Dex does so Nursey will get distracted and go off on a rant about iambic pentameter, someone who could be a  _ partner _ , in all senses of the word–

That’s a dangerous thought, and Dex carefully doesn’t follow it to its logical conclusion.

He feels like the second-best option. The backup partner, perfectly fine, but still slightly disappointing. Just not quite right.

It’s a familiar feeling, one he thought he left behind when he came to Samwell. And he  _ hates _ it.

So, no, he doesn’t go to breakfast with the rest of the defensive line. He usually doesn’t eat breakfast anyway, so it’s just more convenient to grab coffee from Annie’s before class.

He does go to Sunday team brunch, because he’s not an idiot, and also because Bitty doesn’t accept any excuses for missing it, other than literally being too sick to get out of bed. But there he can stick to Chowder’s side and laugh with him when Nursey knocks over the orange juice and Shitty ends up with whipped cream in his moustache. There, he and Nursey aren’t a pale imitation of Holster and Ransom. They’re part of the frogs, their own little unit, and that helps Dex breathe easier.

\---

“ _ Dear Auntie Lovelace, _

_ I’ve recently received an unreciprocated mark, and I’m coming to terms with it. What’s really difficult is that it seems so much harder now to hang out with my friends who have met their soulmates and the ones who are still waiting because it feels like they won’t get it. How do I keep my mark from ruining all my other relationships? _

_ Signed, UnreMarkable _

_ Dear UnreMarkable, _

_ First, I’m sorry to hear about your mark, but all is not lost! Be sure to check the missed connection sites and other places for someone who might be looking for you. Second, kudos to you for making your other relationships a priority. Platonic connections are just as important as romantic ones, soulmate or not, and should be treated as such. If you’re finding it difficult to be with soulmate pairs, and understandably so, try hanging out with your friends one-on-one. Above all, try to remember what it was like before you received your mark. Your mark may be unreciprocated, but your friendships are not. _

_ Yours, Auntie Lovelace” –  _ Auntie Lovelace’s Advice Column _ , Young & Markless Magazine _

It’s not until midway through the semester, and after a lecture from Ransom and Holster on the importance of ‘D-Men Bonding™’, that Dex is able to admit to himself that constantly sniping at Nursey probably isn’t going to help them get along any better.

Unfortunately, every time he tries to talk to Nursey seems to end in a fight, which is why the only way they’ve been able to spend time together recently is by studying in complete silence. Eventually, Dex decides he has to try a different route.

He stops by Annie’s on his way to the library and gets some ridiculous seasonal drink that smells like a candy bar in addition to his usual black coffee. He has to resist the impulse to throw it out the whole walk from Annie’s, through Founder’s, and to the secluded tables in the back of the library, but then he would have wasted money and have nothing to show for it, so instead he just shoves it in Nursey’s face when he arrives at their usual table.

“What’s this?”

Dex doesn’t even bother fighting the instinct to roll his eyes. “It’s coffee. Or it used to be, before they added an ungodly amount of sugar and caramel.”

“Okay,” Nursey says slowly. “And…you got it for me?”

“That does seem to be the most likely explanation for me holding a coffee that I’m certainly not going to drink.”

“…Why?”

“Jesus Christ. Just take the damn coffee or I’m going to throw it out.”

Nursey takes the coffee in the end, and Dex pretends that his knuckles don’t tingle where they’ve been stained orange at his touch. It’s just a few shades darker than Dex’s hair and rich in pigment.

Dex watches him take a sip and looks away when he realizes his gaze is stuck around Nursey’s mouth. He sits himself down and opens his laptop, only looking up again when he feels the back of his neck prickle the way it does when someone’s watching him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Nursey puts the coffee down and goes back to highlighting and writing in the margins of his book. “Thanks for the coffee, Poindexter.”

Dex grunts. “Don’t mention it.”

It’s the most civil exchange they’ve had in weeks. Somewhere, Chowder starts crying with joy and doesn’t know why.

\---

More than anything else, Dex communicates through actions. He’s not the kind of person who can read between the lines and understand the hidden meaning behind someone’s words, it’s just too much fucking effort and it gives him a headache. He knows that this means he can be blunt and unpolished, awkward at expressing himself and oblivious to everything but the most blatant of messages. But he also recognizes that the rest of the world communicates just fine with words where he does better with gestures and favors.

So, after his coffee offer, he’s a little worried Nursey won’t understand the apology it was meant to be. The text thread between him and Nursey discussing (read: arguing over) the best flavor of muffin and the double chocolate chip muffin that’s waiting for Dex at his seat in the library the next time he arrives say otherwise.

He thanks Nursey all the same. He’s not an animal.

\---

Dex walks into his thrice weekly chemistry gen-ed fifteen minutes early, as is his habit, and finds his seat safely in the middle section of seats, about halfway up, at the end of a row.

He sits down and places his bag in the seat next to him, one of the left-handed ones on the end, in what is definitely not his habit. He shakes his head when people ask if the seat is free, even though it makes his cheeks heat and the back of his neck prickle.

The only thing that matters is that it’s still free when Nursey slinks into the lecture hall, about thirty seconds before the lecture is supposed to start. Dex watches him look around, descending the awkwardly spaced stairs into the auditorium, and raises a hand to get his attention. He’s able to catch the surprise that flickers across Nursey’s face before it settles into that chill smirk, which for some reason doesn’t make Dex want to punch him nearly as much as usual.

The quiet ‘thanks’ he gets when Nursey drops into his seat makes something uncomfortably warm clench in his chest.

\---

_ “Don’t let being unreciprocated stop you from forming and nurturing other relationships in your life. You are worthy of love regardless of your soulmate status, and you will find other people who feel the same. And anyone who feels differently doesn’t deserve to be a part of your life.” –  _ Emile Laroux _ , A Selection of Uncomfortable Truths About Soulbonds _

The third time Chowder makes a considering noise under his breath, loud enough to be heard over the low-fi Dex has playing, he rips out his headphones and snaps, “What?”

Chowder jumps and looks over at him in surprise and then admonishment when his hot cocoa spills out of the mug and over his hand. “ _ What _ what?”

“Why do you keep making that noise?” Dex looks over to where Chowder’s gaze was previously stuck. “Did Bitty do something? Is someone messing with Jack?”

“Oh! Oh, no. Nothing like that.” Chowder swings his gaze across the crowded tables that clutter the floorspace of Annie’s to where Jack and Bitty are sitting in a corner, sharing coffee and conversation. Dex watches Jack say something that makes Bitty cackle. “Just...do you think they’re…? You know.”

“Jack and Bitty?” Dex keeps watching, sees Bitty smack at Jack for something he said, laughing. He sees how it makes Jack’s face light up with a smile that they rarely see, and definitely never this big or bright. “Actually, maybe.”

Chowder gasps, “Oh my  _ gosh _ !” and does a small happy dance in his chair. “Wouldn’t that be  _ great? _ Dex, what if they were  _ soulmates _ ?”

Dex rolls his eyes. “They can be dating without being soulmates, Chowder. Not everyone meets their soulmate during syllabus week like you did.”

Chowder blushes and opens his mouth to respond, but his thought gets cut off when Nursey drops into the chair next to him. Nursey’s eyes are bright and he’s bundled up heavily against what is, at worst, a late fall chill. Dex finds it hard to look at him for too long.

“Hey. What’re we talking about?” Nursey starts to shuck the numerous jackets he’s wearing. Dex notices a flash of familiar flannel.

“Is that mine?”

Nursey looks down at the green flannel shirt he’s sporting and crosses his arms defensively. “Maybe. But seriously, what are you staring at?”

“Jack and Bitty! They’ve gotten really close, and they’re  _ flirting _ .” Chowder finishes with a whisper and gestures with what he probably thinks is subtlety towards the side of the café where Jack and Bitty still sit. “We’re wondering if they’re  _ soulmates. _ ”

Dex rolls his eyes and catches Nursey doing the same. Nursey flicks him a grin and says, “Chill, C. Not everything is soulmates and rainbows.”

“You two are lame. I’m just saying it might be nice! Plus, I think they’re cute.” Chowder huffs, breaking into a smile when Dex laughs at his pouting.

Nursey shakes his head good-naturedly and takes out a beaten-up novel and a pen. He looks at Dex and smiles, small but real. He turns his gaze back to Chowder and something in Dex’s chest expands when he says, “Soulmates aren’t everything, C.”

\---

“Hey.”

Dex looks over at Nursey, sprawled next to him on the couch, then back to the Mario Kart racecourse on the screen. “What?”

“I just noticed something.”

“Is it that you’re losing?” Dex mashes a button and feels a spike of vindictive pleasure when Holster starts swearing loudly after being hit with a red shell.

“Shut up.  _ Damn  _ it.” Ransom laughs at him as Nursey falls off a cliff again. “No, something else.”

“What is it?” Dex looks over once Shy Guy has crossed the finish line, securing his position in first place. Nursey’s just driving in circles now, much to the game’s dismay.

Nursey looks over at him with a wicked little smile and says, “My soul color matches your eyes.”

Dex sputters and almost falls off of the couch. “ _ What _ ?”

“It does, look!” He draws a smiley face on the back of Dex’s hand. “See? Your eyes are a bit lighter, more amber than  _ burnt sienna _ ,” he laughs at the way it makes Dex scowl, “but they’re almost the same.”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not what catches Dex’s eye. Rather, it’s the richness left in the little mark on his hand, so much stronger and more vibrant than when they first met, a depth that speaks of lasting connection and a significant relationship.

Dex stares at him in silence, jaw dropped, while Ransom and Holster argue over the legality of mushroom usage. “Are you high?”

Nursey hums. “Yeah, a little bit. But it’s true.” He reaches out and drags the thumb of his left hand slowly over Dex’s cheekbone. “See? It matches. Really brings out the color of your eyes.”

Dex tries to respond but all the breath has suddenly left his lungs.

Nursey taps his fingers against Dex’s cheek and mutters, “pretty,” before hauling himself off of the couch and into the kitchen.

Dex watches him go and tries to remember how to breathe.

\---

“Hey, Dex? Can you help me with something?”

Dex sighs and says, “sure,” before setting his bag down by the stairs and joining Bitty in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long, but Dex has already gotten a reputation for being pretty handy, which is useful in a place as old as the Haus. Between the temperamental washing machine and how finicky the oven has been, he’s become the go-to person for repairs.

So, when he enters the kitchen and Bitty points him towards a ball of dough, it’s a pleasant surprise. They spend some time in silence, Dex rolling out pie dough while Bitty makes a quick filling, blueberries, ginger, lime, and a little sugar going into a mixing bowl. Bitty hands Dex a glass pie pan and he carefully lifts the crust and settles it delicately in the dish.

“So,” Bitty says, casually, “You and Nursey seem to be getting along better, these days.”

Dex twitches and his finger rips a hole in the bottom of the dough. “Uh, yeah. I guess so. We haven’t been fighting as much, if that’s what you mean.”

Bitty pushes the bowl of filling at him and takes over repairing the dough, working some magic so it looks as though it was never ripped at all. “Sure, honey, that can be what I mean.”

“Well, it hasn’t been easy. I mean, sometimes it’s like he’s  _ trying  _ to be the most irritating person on the planet.” Dex frowns at the filling and stirs it a bit more. “But I know I can be really stubborn and argumentative sometimes. I’ve been working on my temper, and on not being so quick to yell. And it turns out, when we’re not arguing, and even sometimes when we are, he’s not the worst person to be around. He’s funny, and our arguments don’t feel so mean anymore. It’s strange, and I’m not really sure what it means. But, yeah. What was the question, again?”

“Mmm. I saw y’all at Annie’s the other day. Looked like you’ve been getting pretty close.” Bitty motions for Dex to add the filling, then starts laying strips of crust in a flawless lattice pattern. Dex turns to grab the egg wash from the fridge.

“Yeah, I guess so. We have been spending a lot of time together, between hockey and the Haus and the class we have together.” He watches as Bitty crimps the edges of the crust perfectly, fingers flying delicately around the edge of the pan. Dex takes time to dab on the egg wash in careful strokes, feeling ungainly and graceless in comparison. “Bitty?”

“Yes?”

Silence hangs in the kitchen for a few moments, Dex frowning at his hands where he’s washing the egg off of them. “Do you ever feel like the thing you want most is something you aren’t meant to have?”

“Oh, honey.” Bitty puts a hand on his arm and looks up at him, brown eyes brimming with solemn understanding. “Yeah, I do.”

“Oh, good. That’s good to know.” Dex huffs a weak laugh and goes to get his bag. “I’ve got to get to the library, but thanks for letting me help. It was fun.”

“Anytime. And Dex,” Bitty pauses, leaning against the sink with a dish towel in his hands, “Even if things feel hopeless, they’ll work themselves out eventually. And there’s some comfort to be found in that, even if it’s not the outcome you want.”

Dex nods and murmurs another “thanks” before making a hasty exit back out into the chilly afternoon. There’s something weird about the vibes in the kitchen.

\---

_ “A new dating app from the creators of ‘ColorWheel’ was announced today: SwatchMatch! Have you ever wondered if you marked someone without knowing? Been to concerts, amusement parks, or in airports and possibly felt the jolt? Upload a picture of your soul color and we’ll help people who are unreciprocated find their matches! Post a picture of your own mark and where you were marked, and we’ll help you find your marker! SwatchMatch: Reveal your true colors!” –  _ a press release on the launch of a new app,  _ SwatchMatch. _

“Dude, what the hell is this?”

Dex freezes in place, immobile beneath Holster’s finger poking at the edges of his soulmate mark. “Uh – “

“I don’t know anyone with this color.” Holster keeps frowning at his shoulder, where his whole hand is now up Dex’s t-shirt, pushing it up and baring the whole mark. “Rans, get your spreadsheet out. We’ve got a color to cross-reference.” Ransom bounds over to the kitchen table, overjoyed at any opportunity to show off his massive Excel file.

“Can you – can you not?” Dex pushes Holster’s face away, swats Ransom’s fingers from his shoulder in a futile attempt to get them both to back off. “Get off, what the fuck?”

“Why are we fondling Dex?” Nursey pokes his head into the kitchen. Great. This is the last thing Dex needs right now. “And more importantly, why wasn’t I invited?”

“Dex, I’m hurt,” Ransom says, amused, while scrolling through his multi-page spreadsheet. Nursey comes over his shoulder and frowns at the database, and then back at Dex. “I can’t believe you’ve kept this from us this whole time.”

“Yeah, man. Why wouldn’t you tell us about your soulmate? We wouldn’t have given you too much hell if you hadn’t hidden it from us for so long. Who’s the lucky – uh, person?”

“Dex has a soulmate? I can’t believe –” Nursey reaches out to touch his mark too, adding dark orange to the bright green and sky blue that already pepper the edges of the muddy maroon mark, and that’s the last fucking straw.

“I  _ don’t _ !” Dex stands up and shoves himself sharply back from the table.

“Woah, hey, calm down, dude.” Nursey pulls his hands back, like he’s afraid of being burned. Nursey’s expression isn’t quite as conciliatory, there’s some kind of harsh glee in his eyes as he watches Dex lose his cool. “We’re just asking.”

“Well,  _ stop. _ It’s none of your fucking business, anyway.” He grabs his bag and shoulders his way past Holster, out of the kitchen. He almost runs into Bitty, slamming himself back into the doorframe to avoid a collision. He can feel the bruise that’s going to bloom up his spine as he mumbles an apology and shoulders his way out of the house, but he’s not really sure what he’s apologizing for, or to whom. He just.

More than anything, he thought Holster and Ransom would understand, since their platonic marking is atypical, too. He expected that  _ one _ of them would have realized that if he hadn’t talked about his soulmate by now, it probably wasn’t something he wanted to share.

He thought he would have more time before they poked and prodded at him like a sideshow attraction. He thought he’d be able to explain on his own terms without them making stupid assumptions. He thought they cared enough about him to ask, rather than trying to fill in the gaps themselves.

He should have known better.

\---

He tried to date a little in high school, mostly after he got his soulmark.

He says ‘tried’ because it turns out that people in his tiny, largely Catholic town in the backwoods of Maine don’t really want to date someone else’s soulmate. And they’re not shy about telling him so, either.

Emma explains gently that she doesn’t want to be stepping on anyone’s toes before kissing his cheek and leaving.

Tim laughs and says he doesn’t want anyone coming to beat him up for encroaching on their territory.

Danielle cuts him off and declares flat out that she’s not interested in marrying someone else’s soulmate, so there’s no point in even trying.

He has tried again while at Samwell, but it’s only slightly better. It’s not hard to find someone to hook up with at kegsters when it’s too dark to notice that one of his marks is uncommonly dark and fluid, but no one wants anything to do with him long-term once they find out he’s unreciprocated.

He hasn’t tried to actively hide from the team, but he definitely didn’t bring it up himself, either, and before Holster pried, no one had said anything. He’s pretty sure anyone who saw it thought it was a birthmark.

Now he has ten separate texts in his phone from members of the team, asking him about the mark, or pointedly  _ not  _ asking him about it, or inviting him back to the Haus for pie. He ignores them all, even the one in the group chat from Jack, ordering everyone to leave him alone unless Dex wants to talk about it and hides in his dorm room with headphones and homework.

He’s annoyed with himself for noticing that there’s no text from Nursey.

\---

It takes Nursey a full week to corner him, but that might just be because it’s nearly finals season and everyone is stupid busy.

“You know, I’ve met my soulmate.”

Dex grits his teeth and doesn’t look up from his calculus textbook, no matter how much of a Pavlovian response he’s developed in reaction to that voice. “Funnily enough, I don’t care.”

“Her name is Nadiya.” Dex focuses on the equations so completely that he’s certain he’ll never forget a single variable, just to keep from remarking that they’ve  _ all  _ seen Nursey’s soul mark, a small, delicate thing near Nursey’s temple in a light shade of periwinkle. Like someone was trying to brush Nursey’s curls out of his eyes, trying to stop him from hiding behind them the way he does when he’s anxious or feeling exposed. Nursey flops down at the table anyway, jostling it enough to send one of Dex’s pencils tumbling to the floor. Dex scowls at it as he bends to pick it up, since that’s the better option than looking at Nursey’s stupid face. “She goes to school in California.”

There’s no single reality where Dex wants to have this conversation right now. He starts shoving his books into his bag and snarls, “I still don’t care.”

“Dex, will you – just  _ stop _ .” Nursey’s hand knots in the strap of Dex’s bag, holding him there. Dex stares fixedly at the overlapping colors that cover Nursey’s skin instead of looking him in the face. He can spot Chowder’s bright teal, smudges of Bitty’s gold from slapping his hand away from something probably too hot to eat, and everywhere his own dark green, green, green, hiding at the hollows of Nursey’s wrist and elbow and the spaces between his fingers. It makes something bitter and harsh in him soften, and he tightens his fists in an effort to keep himself held together. “Stop and  _ listen  _ to me. I’m trying to tell you that I understand.”

Dex flicks his gaze up to meet Nursey’s pleading expression. “Oh, you do, do you?” His voice comes out harsh and cold in a way that’s completely alien to him.

“ _ Yes. _ I always thought that meeting my soulmate would be like finding the missing piece of my heart, but Nadiya’s not that person for me. And that’s okay! I’m not that person for her, either. We’re better off doing our own things and being our own people. It doesn’t make us wrong, or unnatural.”

“That’s great, Nursey, I’m really happy for you.” Dex tugs again and wrenches his bag out of Nursey’s grip. “Really, I’m just so happy you and your soulmate were able to clear that up. I was on the edge of my seat.”

“You’re impossible to talk to, Poindexter, do you know that? You’re so fucking hardheaded sometimes, I’m just trying to tell you that I get it –“

“ _ No _ . You don’t  _ get it. _ ” Dex whips back around to face Nursey, hissing instead of yelling in deference to the fact that they’re in a fucking library where people are trying to study, Derek Nurse, so you shouldn’t go around shouting at people. “You had a  _ choice _ , and you chose not to be together. And really, I don’t give two fucks what you decide to do about your love life, Nurse, because it doesn’t really involve me.”

“Fine, but you’re clearly sensitive about it!” Nursey throws up his hands and ignores the people glaring at them because he’s a heathen who shouts in libraries. Thankfully, he doesn’t resist when Dex drags him out the door so they don’t get kicked out, because while Dex is reasonably sure he could have bodily picked him up and moved him, that’s probably not a great idea right now. “You think we’re not going to get that it’s a delicate subject? Look around, Poindexter, it’s sensitive for all of us. Jack’s going to play in the NHL, Bits has his own issues, Ransom and Holster are doing some weird mating dance that even I don’t understand, no one except Chow has the perfect Hallmark movie ending! No one  _ cares  _ that you have some kind of fucked up relationship with your mark; we care about  _ you _ and want to make sure you’re okay! If anything, we’re the ones who are going to get what you’re going through, because we’re going through the same things.”

Dex bites out, “We are  _ not _ the same,” and he’s almost snarling again, pissed off in an achy, vulnerable way only Nursey can drag out of him. He turns and starts to leave, because he still has fucking homework to do, even if his teammates are hunting him down to try and get him to talk about his  _ feelings _ .

“You’re not  _ special _ , okay?” Nursey bursts out, causing Dex’s knees to lock up, halting him in his tracks. “You’re not the only one with baggage and having your own special heartache because your soulmate died, or something, doesn’t give you a right to be a dick when we’re just trying to get to know you.”

Dex stares out over the quad and considers, just for a moment, leaving this where Nursey has dropped it, but he can’t. He’s never been one to back down from a fight, and he’s sure as fuck not going to start now. He turns back and walks up to Nursey. Dex doesn’t quite know what his face is doing, but whatever it is makes Nursey’s eyes go wide, and the crinkles in his forehead soften. The uncertainty Dex sees there makes his heart break, or he thinks it would if it didn’t feel like a solid lump of ice in his chest.

“You think I don’t know that?” The question is very quiet. If there were more than six inches between him and Nursey, it probably wouldn’t be audible. “I know I’m not special. Believe me, that’s the one thing I do know. I’m not special, I’m not wanted, I’m not _good_ _enough_. That’s the difference between you and me, Nurse. You got to sit and talk with your soulmate, to try out your relationship and decide _together_ that no, it wasn’t for you. I never got the chance to be anything to anyone. I never had the option to say no, I never had a choice in the first place. I tried so hard for so long to find my soulmate after it happened, I didn’t stop searching for _years_. I made flyers, I wrote posts on every social media site you can think of, I asked people I knew who had been there if they knew anyone that matched my color. I tried so damn hard to at least have a goddamn conversation with the person who permanently marked me, who was supposed to be my other half, and they didn’t show up. They ignored everything I did, because they didn’t want to bother, or they weren’t looking for me. They left me behind, and _I’m_ the one who has to wear this stupid, unfinished mark forever because they didn’t want to try.

“So no, we’re not the same, Nursey. And I’m not mad because you got a choice. I’m  _ thrilled _ ,” he bites the word out between gritted teeth, “that you were able to choose. I hope it’s made you both happy. But that doesn’t give you the right to force your way into my business, to remind me how not special I am.” He steps back and takes a breath, once again avoiding Nursey’s eyes. “I already know that.”

“Dex,” Nursey’s voice is weak and strained, completely void of any of its usual chill.

“Just leave me alone, Nursey. I don’t want to talk about it.” He turns and walks as fast as he can away from the whole embarrassing conversation, ducking into the engineering building to hide. He takes a minute, sitting on the floor of an empty classroom, to wipe his face and slow his breathing. Just a minute, because he really does have a calc problem set due in a few hours and he’s certainly not going back to Founder’s. That library is fucking cursed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! Part 3 coming some time later this week! As always, a ridiculous amount of love to my beta, electric_typewriter

_ “Conditions like vitiligo and albinism don’t stop individuals from developing soul marks in affected areas, although marks in those areas, when not soulmate marks, do tend to fade at an increased rate. However, scarred areas cannot be marked, likely due to the composition of the scar tissue itself, although skin grafts and therapies to increase blood flow to areas likely to scar have been shown to increase marking potential.”  _ \- Walters, B.M. & Khoury, L., _ “Mark Capability and Duration in Non-standard Skin Pigmentation”,  _ Journal of Chromodermatology, 2018.

Soul marks don’t cover scar tissue. Not even ones from your soulmate.

File that one under “Things William Poindexter Wishes He Didn’t Know”.

It’s not, like, a big deal. Dex does a lot of work with his hands, always has. And hockey isn’t exactly easy on the body; he’s honestly surprised no one on their team lost a tooth yet.

They’re not huge or super prominent or anything. But there’s a large burn mark on his forearm from a hot engine he got too close to while working in his aunt’s garage, his hands are laced with thin white lines from fish hooks and lines, even a couple mementos from some really pissed off lobsters, and his soulmate mark is bisected by a scar he got from falling out of a tree one time.

But sometimes, when Dex is standing next to Bitty in the kitchen, or studying with Nursey and Chowder at the library, or swearing under his breath at his computer in his TA’s office hours, he notices his scars in a way he doesn’t normally. He looks down at his hands, his forearms, the slashes and blotches of white scar tissue breaking up the stains of color there. Suddenly they’re all he can see and he feels like damaged goods.

He’s proud of his scars, for the most part. They show that he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty or put real effort in to make something work. But it’s also hard to not feel like he’s too rough around the edges, or like he’s trying too hard to be the type of person who gets to go to a place like Samwell when everyone around him can tell that he doesn’t belong.

It’s a quiet, shameful feeling. Like he’s made up of jagged pieces that don’t fit together quite right, like he’s not quite soft enough for the colorful marks that grace his skin. It’s harder to ignore the feeling now, with Nursey’s words echoing in his ears and the way that Holster and Ransom had poked and prodded at his mark feeling like phantom fingers on his skin. So, he does what he always has: grits his teeth and turns his music up.

\---

Practice the day after fighting with Nursey is awkward, to say the least.

Dex keeps a careful distance from everyone, especially Nursey. He doesn’t touch anyone outside of checks on the ice, barely looks anyone in the eye. It’s actually not the worst he and Nursey have ever played, which is a little sad.

Things aren’t less awkward when Holster corners him after practice and walks him to his class, but it helps when Holster hands him a cup of coffee while they walk. It warms his hands up, at least.

“I wanted to, ah. Say I’m really sorry, bro. Rans, too.” Holster scratches the back of his head. “We shouldn’t have pushed you, if you didn’t want to talk about your whole,” he makes a vague gesture towards Dex’s arm, “business. We should have had your back, even when that means getting off of it. I’m sorry.”

Dex blinks, looks down at his coffee, then back up at Holster. “Uh, thank you? Thanks. It’s fine, it’s just a touchy subject. But you wouldn’t know that, since I never talk about it. So.”

“Yeah, but we should have realized. It’s not like the team hasn’t seen unusual soulmate dynamics before.” Holster wrings his hands, worrying the green mark on his right hand. He flexes his fingers and looks down at it, sighing. “Not that actually  _ being  _ soulmates is simple, either. But we didn’t do our jobs and support you like we should have. We have to do better.”

“I’ll, uh. Try not to be as much of an asshole about it next time.” Dex smiles a little and toasts Holster with his coffee. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

“Well, I figured if I was gonna try to talk to you about this, it would be a good idea to come with a peace offering.” Holster ruffles Dex’s hair like his older brother used to, and Dex punches him in the kidney in retaliation. Suddenly Holster has him in a headlock while Dex tries desperately not to spill his coffee. They probably look like idiots, wrestling and laughing outside the door to the engineering building in the early morning winter sunshine, but it loosens the knot of worry in Dex’s chest. Holster finally lets go and shoves him away, leaving with a wave as he says, “Don’t thank me, bro, it was Nursey’s idea. I guess if anyone knows how cranky you are without your coffee, it’s him.”

That knot of worry tightens again as he looks down at the nearly empty, lukewarm cup. The coffee was perfect, as much as black coffee with one packet of sugar can be, and it makes something indefinable in him squirm, to be known like that.

He throws the cup away as he enters his lecture hall, and ignores the twist of guilt he feels when he doesn’t text Nursey to say thank you.

\---

Finals week hits them all hard, and it’s no surprise that Dex ends up huddling by himself in a remote corner of the engineering building. When he finally emerges from his last exam, Dex turns on his phone to see that Bitty has sent a message in the group chat that there will be pies coming out of the oven soon. He’s never been so grateful for Bitty’s stress baking in his life.

The soft creak of the front door opening is drowned out by the voices that he can hear coming out of the kitchen. Dex closes the door behind him part of the way to keep the cold out, but something stops him from continuing all the way into the Haus.

“ – Honey, don’t even worry about it. I’m more than happy to have you help out, even if you end up dropping a thing or two.” Bitty’s relentlessly chipper voice carries out through the doorway to the kitchen. “And I’m especially glad to see you because it seems like you might have needed a little pick me up recently.”

There’s a long pause and at the end of it Dex hears Nursey’s voice say, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Bitty hums in agreement and there’s some background noise of things clanking on the counter and the oven door opening and closing. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to say?” Nursey laughs and it makes Dex’s chest ache because Nursey’s laugh isn’t supposed to sound like that. It’s supposed to be warm and low and have that little snort that Nursey hates but makes Dex smile every time he hears it. This laugh is flat and defeated, and just hearing it makes something in Dex’s chest ache. “We were starting to be friends and then I pushed too hard and said some stupid shit and now he won’t even look at me.”

A chill runs down Dex’s spine and drips ice into his veins. He feels the urge to flee before he hears any more of what’s clearly a private conversation, but he’s frozen in place and can’t move his legs.

Bitty sighs and then it’s silent for a little while. “I’m not gonna say that it was okay to prod at him the way y’all did, I would know better than anyone that there are things that people want to keep quiet and secrets that shouldn’t come to light in that way. But, Nursey, I also know that you didn’t push because you wanted to hurt him, and Dex knows that, too.”

“I hope so.” Nursey’s voice, after a long pause, is terrifyingly small.

“He does.” In contrast, Bitty sounds like pure warmth. “But you have to give him time, now. Y’all brought up something that’s clearly painful for him, and you weren’t the most delicate about it, if you don’t mind me saying. He’ll forgive you, you’ll forgive him, and you two are gonna move past it. You just have to accept that it might not happen right this second, and it might not happen how you expect it to.”

“I just –“ there’s the sound of something clattering to the counter, “ _ shit _ . I just don’t know how to apologize. He won’t even  _ look  _ at me, Bits. How am I supposed to apologize to him and have him listen if he won’t even look at me?”

The oven opens and closes again and the sink kicks on – a little inconsistently, with some rattling of the pipes, Dex will have to take a look at that when he gets back from break – before Bitty responds. “That’s not something I can tell you, and unfortunately you’re gonna have to figure it out for yourselves. But I can tell you this: it’s a two-way street, Nursey, and it won’t matter what you say or how you say it if you apologize before he’s willing to listen.”

That familiar chill runs down Dex’s spine again, whether it’s from the breeze coming through the slightly open door or something else, he can’t say. He opens the door again and slips back outside, pulling the door shut quietly behind him. Bitty’s last sentence stays with him the whole way back to his dorm.

\---

Going home for break is stressful in a different sort of way.

It’s always good to see his whole family together, even if it does descend into chaos when his older siblings bring their kids to visit over Christmas.

Dex spends his time in the garage with his dad and his aunt, the kitchen with his mom and siblings, and outside in the park with nieces and nephews. They Skype his brother who’s overseas and wrap presents and it’s all around a very typical holiday season.

He’s the one who’s left the most recently, so there’s lots of exclamations over how much he’s grown, how he’s cut his hair, and questions and comments about how their season is going. Peppered in are questions about his dating life and whether he’s still searching for his soulmate and has he tried Facebook? Apparently, all the kids are registering their marks on Facebook nowadays, according to his mom. But he’s heard these questions before, and for the most part he can shrug them off and ignore the small stabs of annoyance they cause. If it gets too bad, he just grabs his niblings and goes out to the yard for a snowball fight.

The team group chat buzzes at least a couple of times a day. Holster and Ransom are apparently spending the holidays with each other’s families and keep up a constant conversation even though they’re in the same room. Shitty complains about his grandparents the whole time and sends pictures of the ridiculous spread they put out for meals. Even Jack contributes with the occasional ‘Haha.’

The conversation that Dex overheard at the Haus keeps replaying in his head the entire time he’s home. Bitty is right, and there’s been a knot of guilt sitting in Dex’s stomach from avoiding Nursey since they fought. Dex texts Nursey a fairly neutral “Happy Holidays” once he’s away from campus, and after some brief awkwardness and uncertainty on both their parts, they keep a relaxed but consistent conversation going throughout the break.

It’s more tentative than their interactions have ever been, but maybe that’s a good thing. Instead of trying to force each other to meet expectations of how the other should react, they’re just letting each other be. The distance gives them both some breathing room, and their conversations aren’t as fraught as they were before their fight in the library.

It’s kind of nice.

\---

“Hey, Dex!” Chowder leans over the porch rail towards Dex, waving wildly. “ _ Dex!  _ Welcome back!”

Dex grins and climbs up the stairs, pulling Chowder in for a hug before saying, “Good to see you, too, buddy. Good break?”

“Yeah!” Chowder blushes before saying, “I went to visit Caitlin over the holidays.”

“I heard, looks like you had a good time.” Dex pokes at the hickeys dotting Chowder’s neck, as well as the swaths of color there. “Looks like you had a couple good times, actually.”

Chowder blushes even harder and slaps at him before saying, “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“I will!”

Chowder shoves at Dex and suddenly they’re wrestling on the Haus porch. Dex laughs as he scoops up a handful of snow and slips it down Chow’s collar, making him yelp and shake out his sweater.

“Careful, Poindexter. If you break our goalie, you’ve gotta buy him.” Dex looks up from where he’s sitting on Chowder’s chest to see Nurse grinning at the both of them from the open front window of the Haus. Nursey’s grin freezes a bit when he makes eye contact with Dex, going unsure and a bit wobbly before it’s backed up by bravado.

Dex stands and brushes himself off, pulling a complaining Chowder up by the arm as well. He gives Nursey a tight smile in return and just says, “Hey. You should close the windows, I haven’t had a chance to look at the heat yet.”

Nursey and Chowder both blink at him in surprise before Nursey leans back inside the house. The window shuts with a small  _ thud _ , and Dex lets out a breath before heading inside. Chowder trails after him quietly.

The kitchen is suspiciously quiet when they enter, both Nursey and Bits are blinking at Dex owlishly. He looks between them and raises his eyebrows, “What?”

Bitty clears his throat. “Had a good break, Dex?”

“Um, yeah? It was fine. Good to see my family, you know. You?”

“Oh, sure. Always a bit of a shock, going from this to winters in Georgia, but I’m glad to be back.” Bitty smiles at him, and then nods his head towards the stove. “Betsy’s still holding on, should have something out in about half an hour, if y’all will be around.”

Dex nods and says, “Sure, sure. I’m gonna take a look at the boiler downstairs,” he shrugs the shoulder with the bag hanging from it, “So I might be a bit. But it’ll be warmer up here when I’m done.”

“Great!” Chowder beams at him. “Take Nursey with you.”

“What _? _ ” Dex and Nursey exclaim simultaneously, looking quickly at each other, and then away again.

“That’s a great idea!” Bitty is pretty clearly biting down on a smile, but he hides it by turning back to the sink. “You could use a hand down there, or at least someone to hold a flashlight. I’m sure Nursey can’t mess that up too badly. Get along, now.” He waves them away with gentle disregard and Chowder sidles up to him to help put the pie together.

Dex stares at Nursey for a while, watching that smooth, chill expression fight to keep control. Eventually he shrugs and heads downstairs, Nursey padding quietly behind him. The lone lightbulb in the basement does a terrible job of illuminating things, and as he sets up behind the boiler to poke around, Dex is actually very grateful to have someone to hold his flashlight.

Once they’re downstairs and Dex has himself half wedged behind the boiler with Nursey holding the light actually quite competently, the silence hangs heavy over them. The air grows thick with it, and Dex steels himself for the mother of all awkward moments.

Of course, Nursey is physically unable to keep his mouth shut, ever.

“What would you do without me, Poindexter? Live in the darkness?”

“Yeah, you’re the light in my fucking life, bro,” Dex mumbles around the screwdriver in his teeth, “Bring the light a little to the left?” There’s some quiet shifting. “No, dude, your  _ other  _ left.”

“Sorry.” Nursey sounds a bit put out, actually, and Dex works in silence for a bit. “Had a good break?”

“Mm. It was fine. Busy, lots of people. Lots of questions about the team, you know.” Dex makes a quiet noise of triumph when he identifies the gasket that’s been giving them trouble. He rummages around in his toolbox for some sealant while his mouth continues on autopilot. “You?”

“The opposite, actually. Super quiet around my place. The moms were traveling, so it was just me in New York.” The light jiggles with what Dex assumes is a shrug and he makes a small frustrated noise. “Shit, sorry. But it was chill. Most of the people I know were busy so it was pretty quiet.”

Dex frowns in concentration as he spreads the sealant and waits for it to set. “That sounds lonely as fuck, man. You should have called one of us, we would have hung out with you.”

Nursey is quiet for a bit. “I didn’t think anyone was up for hanging with me this holiday season.”

“What? That’s stupid.” Dex turns to look at Nursey, who’s carefully inspecting the flashlight. “Of course, we would have. No one would have wanted to leave you alone. We’ve got your back, dude.”

Nursey looks at him, eyes darting, searching for something that he seems to find. A tiny smile crooks up the corner of his mouth and suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in around Dex. “Chyeah. I’ll remember that for next time, Poindexter. You won’t be able to get rid of me then.”

“I can’t get rid of you now,” Dex grumbles, but a smile breaks through when the light starts to shake again in the wake of Nursey’s laughter.

\---

Dex barely looks up when Chowder sets his stuff down at the table he’s commandeered in the 24-hour library. It’s eleven at night and he’s got a problem set that’s due in an hour that he really should have started about three days ago. It takes Chowder saying his name three times before he looks up from his computer screen.

“What?”

“Do you want anything from the vending machines?” Chowder is shooting him a fondly exasperated look, and Dex isn’t sure what he did to deserve that.

“RedBull would be great, actually.”

“Sure, Dex.” Chowder pats his shoulder and Dex stares at it before shaking his head and turning back to his computer.

Chowder comes back in a minute and sets the can down next to him, opening his own computer in silence. Dex grunts his thanks and chugs half of the RedBull before turning back to the problem set and beating his head against it for the next fifty-nine minutes and thirty seconds.

The second he submits it, all the manic energy that was sustaining him drains out of him, and Dex drops his head to the table with a groan. He feels Chowder patting his head in sympathy.

“Thanks, C.” He turns his head and looks up at Chowder from where he’s slumped. “What’re you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d keep you company.” It’s difficult to raise an eyebrow when half your face is smushed into a table, but Dex makes a serious effort. “Alright, I wanted to wear down your defenses enough that I could talk to you about Nursey without you biting my head off.”

Dex groans again into the table. “ _ Why _ , Chowder?”

“Because things are weird between you guys! Or they were weird before break, and now that you’re back they’re less weird, which is actually significantly more weird!” Chowder stops to take a breath. “It’s just  _ weird _ .”

“Yeah, I got that.” Dex lifts his head up and scrubs his face with his hands. He knows that Chowder is put in an uncomfortable position sometimes, being friends with both of them, and Dex probably does owe someone some answers. But  _ Jesus,  _ he just wants to get out of here. His eyes feel like they’ve got sand in them, he wants to go to bed, and the only way to get out of this is to go straight through. “What do you want to know?”

“What  _ happened _ ?” Chowder is fairly bouncing in place now. “Why were you so pissed at him? Why aren’t you pissed now? Did it have to do with your soulmate mark? Are you going to go back to being pissed at him? Does this have anything to do with why you won’t date?”

Dex stares at him. “Pick one question.”

Chowder starts to speak before the look on Dex’s face has him biting his tongue and clearly reconsidering. “Are you okay, Dex?”

Dex feels abruptly like someone has hit him in the chest with a sledgehammer. He stops and considers the question, thinks about where he was this time last year, about the warmth of the Haus and the sounds of the rink, about Mario Kart on the couch and study sessions at Annie’s. He thinks about watching Nursey’s hands as he talks, and about laughing in the kitchen with Bitty as Chowder spills flour all down his front.

He rubs absently at his shoulder. “I’m getting there, C. I might not be there yet, but I’m getting there.”

Chowder studies his face for a minute before nodding once. “Okay. Good.”

“Thank  _ God _ .” Dex pushes away from the table. “Can I please go to bed now? It’s after midnight and I’m  _ dying _ .”

“You’re a baby, it’s barely nighttime. What kind of college student are you, that you’re tired already?”

“I’m not a baby, I just love myself enough to try and get eight hours of sleep per night.” Dex slings his bag over his shoulder and they walk out of the library together. “It’s not my fault that your sleep schedule is fucked up.”

They bicker all the way back to the dorms, and Chowder doesn’t ask any more questions about Nursey.

\---

_ “Sometimes, your soulmate is just one of the people you spend your life with rather than your only partner. Sometimes, you don’t spend your lives together at all. We don’t know why this happens any more than we know why people have soulmates in the first place, but there’s one thing we do know: you know what’s best for you, and if that’s not your soulmate, then that’s okay.” –  _ Emile Laroux _ , A Selection of Uncomfortable Truths About Soulbonds _

There’s a little distance between Dex and Nursey now, from the time they spent not speaking and the incident at the library that they don’t talk about. But for the most part, they’re back to their normal routine. Which is to say they practice and go to class as usual, and Nursey spends his free time winding Dex up while Dex spends his free time pretending he doesn’t notice how pretty Nursey is.

Nursey is very good at winding Dex up. Dex is not nearly as good at pretending he doesn’t notice how pretty Nursey is.

“I think the universe was trying to tell us something when it gave us complementary soul colors,” Nursey remarks airily, gently painting spots of color on Ransom’s neck. Lardo’s junior art piece is going to be beautiful, though Dex thinks they all would have appreciated slightly more time to sleep in.

“They’re not quite complementary colors,” Dex says around a yawn, “Red is the complementary color for green, not orange–“

“ _ Burnt sienna. _ ” Nursey mutters.

Dex rolls his eyes, but lets it go. “Regardless, your complementary color would be blue. Or teal. Not green.”

“Olive and burnt sienna,” Nursey muses, “too similar to be true opposites. Too different to be paired together in complete harmony. And yet, they work together surprisingly well.”

Dex squints at him. “Are you trying to be profound?”

“Just working on a theory,” Nursey says, perfectly nonchalant. He sends Dex a sideways look. “Why, do I sound deep and mysterious?”

“You’re about as deep as a kiddie pool.” Dex snorts out a reluctant laugh when Nursey sticks out his tongue in retribution. He looks back up a second later to see Nursey still staring at him. “What?”

“Nothing. Just nice, to see you smile at me again.” Nursey breaks eye contact again to stare down at where he’s picked his cuticles ragged. “Your smiles were getting a little sparse for a while there.”

Dex looks away, focusing on tracing the shapes on Ransom that Lardo has outlined. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed. Or cared.”

“Of course, I noticed.” Oh, no. Nursey sounds offended now, he probably has that crease between his eyebrows that he gets, the one that makes Dex want to tease him and iron it out, get him to laugh instead of frown. Dex focuses even harder on the warm skin under his hands –  _ Ransom’s  _ skin, instead of getting distracted by the look he can feel burning into the side of his face. “Dex, c’mon, bro. You’re my partner, of course I was going to notice you going all huffy –“

“I didn’t  _ go all huffy _ , fuck you –“

“ – and ignoring me for weeks.” When Dex looks over, Nursey is picking at his cuticles again, and Dex watches his own hands reach out to cover them as if they’re under someone else’ control. “I know you said we were fine when we first got back. But I just wanted to say that I noticed. And I know why. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t –“

“ _ Hey! _ ” Lardo appears behind Dex’s shoulder and he jumps, snatching his hands from Nursey’s as if they burned. “Get your asses over to Holster,  _ now. _ We are wasting daylight and I swear if you’re the reason this doesn’t get done, I will hang you from the rafters by your hamstrings and leave you for the birds to devour at their leisure.”

Dex blinks at her and then at Nursey, who is wearing a similarly stunned look, before scurrying over across the room to Holster and setting to work. They don’t talk more, but Dex can’t stop looking at the deep olive stains on Nursey’s fingers.

\---

“You okay?”

“Hm?” Dex lifts his chin from his hand and looks at Chowder in confusion.

“Are you alright?” Chowder looks so concerned that Dex wants to boop his nose. “You’ve been quiet since Jack and Bitty came in.”

“Yeah! Yeah, C. I’m fine.” Dex shuffles his notes, forcibly tearing his gaze away from where Jack and Bitty are sitting by the window. Jack’s been watching Bitty talk animatedly about something with a soft look on his face for about fifteen minutes now. They’ve been ridiculously mushy since they marked each other, it’s almost painful to watch.

They fall silent, the usual bustle of Annie’s moving around their little two-person table, both of them at least seemingly focused on their notes.

“Is it hard?” Dex looks up to find Chowder watching him again, which is starting to become an unsettling trend.

“You’re gonna have to clarify, Chow, otherwise I’m just gonna start making dick jokes.”

Chowder wrinkles his nose. “Please don’t. I meant being around Soulmarked people. Is it difficult, or uncomfortable? Because you’re...you know?”

Dex blinks at him and says, “Wow, you’re really going in for the kill, huh?”

“You don’t have to tell me! Sorry! I just wanted to ask because I wondered if it was weird, being around me and Cait, or Ransom and Holster, or now Jack and Bitty. Or if there was something that we could do to make you more comfortable. I don’t know! I just want to help.”

“I – no, Chowder. That’s okay. It’s nothing – I don’t want you to think you can’t be happy or hang out with Cait around me just because I’m unreciprocated. It’s fine, I’m happy that you’re happy, man.”

“Oh, okay.” Chowder goes back to his notes but Dex can feel him watching from the corner of his eye, and Dex sighs.

“Did you have another question?”

“Yeah!” Chowder sets his notes aside and turns to face Dex more directly. “When did you get it? Where did you get it? Did you notice when you were marked? How have you tried to find them? Do you think you’ll ever find them? What do you think - ?”

“Woah there, slow your roll, Chowder.” Nursey drops a hand to Chowder’s shoulder and drags a chair over from another table with an apologetic smile. He collapses into the chair and sprawls out, resting one of his boots on Dex’s knee. Dex shoves it off but Nursey replaces it easily and Dex just lets it be. “Every time I come to Annie’s you’re freaking out about something, what’s up with that?”

“I’m not  _ freaking out _ . I’m just asking questions!”

“Just leave him be, yeah?” Nursey winks at Dex. “Not like it matters anyway, since we all know that Dex’s real soulmates are hockey and coding.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Dex means for it to be irritated, but the words end up coming out ridiculously fond. Dex keeps his eyes on Nursey, but he can feel Chowder’s gaze burning a hole in the side of his head.

Nursey scoffs and the two of them set off bickering, with Chowder grumbling something about hopeless idiots before going back to his notes.

\---

_ “Honestly, the most common questions I get about dating as an unreciprocated person all ask what to do if your partner has a problem with your mark, and the answer is very simple: dump them. Someone who really likes you isn’t going to care about whether or not you have a mark, and someone who cares more about your mark doesn’t deserve to date someone as great as you anyway.” –  _ Tanya Leblanc _ , Un No Longer! _

It’s the last kegster of the semester and Dex is possibly, maybe, just a little wasted from the tub juice that Shitty has been pushing all night. Maybe he’s been so generous with it because he’s mourning the loss of his flow, but everything is slightly hazy and nicely warm so Dex isn’t going to question it.

Dex had his hands in the back pockets of a soccer player, he thinks, before stumbling back onto the porch to refill his cup and losing track of the time and the guy he was kissing. He’s been outside with Shitty for a while now, and Chowder appeared at some point, too. Dex is propping himself on Chowder’s shoulder and laughing at something until his world shifts and now he’s propped up on Nursey’s shoulder and still laughing.

“Nursey!” he exclaims, straightening up and dropping a heavy hand to Nursey’s shoulder. “When did you get here?”

“Uh, like twenty minutes ago, dude.” Nursey laughs a little and takes Dex’s cup away from it, pouring it over the side of the porch. “No more tub juice for you, I think.”

“Aw, no. That’s my favorite cup of tub juice.” Dex pouts and it just makes Nursey laugh harder, which makes Dex pout even more. Nursey pokes him in the lower lip, and of course Dex isn’t going to take that lying down – or sitting up, he’s still sitting up, he thinks – so he bites at Nursey’s finger. Instead of being offended, Nursey just throws back his head and laughs, snorting in that way that Dex loves, and Dex laughs with him, Chowder shaking his head at the two of them.

When they finally calm down, Dex looks up into Nursey’s face, and at the expression he sees there, his alcohol-soaked brain stalls like a boat that’s out of gas. Nursey’s expression is open and warm, and he’s looking at Chowder and smiling, bright and real like they rarely see from Nursey – Dex is really only just beginning to realize how many of Nursey’s smiles are tight and fake and  _ chill _ and it makes his heart hurt in a way he’s not used to – and Dex feels something in him catch and the only thought in his head is ‘ _ Oh no.’ _

Nursey looks over at him with a confused smile and says, “Alright, Poindexter?”

Dex takes a deep breath and wets his lips, needing a second to collect himself after the world-shaking realization he’s just had. “Yeah. Yeah, Derek, I’m okay.”

Nursey blinks at him and grins again, smaller but no less warm and real, “Okay, that’s good. I wouldn’t want to have to dunk you in the pond to sober you up.”

“As if,” Dex scoff “You couldn’t get me off the porch without falling down, much less all the way to the pond.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

It’s a stunningly warm night in late April, Dex is laughing on the porch of the Haus with his teammates, and he’s in love with Nursey.

_ Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Give me your thoughts, your feelings, your emotions, I will snack on them like candy <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last little bit! Thank you to everyone who's read this silly little story, let me know what you think of the end!

_“Next in entertainment news: an A-list actress comes out as unreciprocated! This leading lady has been an actress, director, and producer, but now she’s going to undertake her biggest role yet: an inspiration, both in the starring role and as the real-life source material for a new autobiographical film. We’ll tell you who the star is and more, coming up next.” –_ an excerpt from the entertainment segment of _Good Morning America,_ 2019

The nice thing about having paradigm-shifting realizations taking place in the spring is that you only have to be around your teammate/best friend/part-time rival you’ve recently realized you have feelings for for about a month before you separate for the whole summer.

The bad thing, when you’re William J. Poindexter, resident dumbass, is that you’ve already invited said teammate/best friend/part-time rival to stay with you for a week over the summer so he doesn’t have to spend the whole time alone in an empty New York brownstone.

And in his defense, it seemed like a great idea in March, when they were just barely friends again and trying not to step on each other’s boundaries. Dex had blurted the invitation out like an idiot, only saved from eternal embarrassment when Nursey, with equal awkwardness, had accepted immediately.

However, now that it’s the end of June and Dex is driving Nursey to his house from the airport, and the silence is hanging heavily in the air between them, it seems like a monumentally stupid idea. Dex is staring determinedly out the windshield when Nursey finally pipes up and starts ripping into the playlist he’s got on shuffle, which sets him off and at least gives them something to talk about the rest of the way home.

Once they’re out of the car, it seems to hit both Dex and Nursey at the same time that Nursey is going to be at his  _ home,  _ sleeping in his room and hanging out with his family, and his whole life is going to be opened up for examination. Nursey pauses with his hand on the car door and looks to Dex, who grabs Nursey’s bag from the backseat and walks into the house, shouting that he’s back and that he’s brought Nursey with him.

Dex’s mom comes out of the kitchen, saying, “Derek! Hi, it’s lovely to meet you, Will has told us so much about you. Welcome to our home.” She pulls Nursey in for a hug and then pulls back to look at him, leaving her delicate sunshine-yellow marks on his arms, “Wow, you certainly are tall, aren’t you? Are any of you hockey players normal-sized?”

“I think probably just Eric, Mrs. Poindexter, usually they don’t let you play unless you’re over six feet tall. Thank you for letting me stay, you have an absolutely lovely home.”

She laughs and squeezes Nursey’s arms gently before releasing him and moving to kiss Dex on the cheek. “What a charmer you are. You’ll be staying on the air mattress, I hope that’s alright. We didn’t want to put you on the couch since all the kids are home from school.”

“That sounds perfect, thanks, Mrs. P.”

She clucks at him before shooing them both towards the stairs. “Call me Daphne, dear. Go ahead and put your stuff down, decompress a little. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.” When Nursey turns around and heads for the stairs, she mouths, “He’s cute!” at Dex, who blushes furiously before following Nursey up the stairs.

Dex has never been self-conscious about his home or his family, but looking at his room from Nursey’s perspective makes him cringe a little. It’s small, but he cleaned it thoroughly before Nursey arrived so everything is tucked away nicely. Naturally, Nursey makes a beeline for the pictures that Dex’s mom has refused to take down.

“I, uh, hope the air mattress is okay. I figured since we room together during roadies that you wouldn’t mind –“

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.” Nursey actually waves him off before saying, “Dex, you were a  _ cute _ kid.”

“Shut up.” Dex grumbles, dropping Nursey’s bag onto the air mattress. “I can’t believe she hasn’t taken those down yet.”

“Do you think she would give me copies of these if I asked?” Nursey touches the edge of the picture of Dex in kindergarten, six-year-old Dex smiling up at the camera with missing front teeth.

“Probably, but I’ll kill you if you do.” Dex opens the door for them to head back downstairs and pauses, waiting for Nursey to leave the photos alone.

“Worth it.” Nursey turns towards Dex and shoots him that small, warm smile that Dex sees so rarely. He knows that he would give Nursey all his baby pictures if he could just keep seeing that smile. It makes him furious.

Dex clears his throat and gestures towards the stairs. “C’mon, it’s gonna be a zoo down there if we’re late for dinner.”

“But I’m a guest, Poindexter. Do you not have manners out here in the sticks?”

“Manners mean nothing when there’s pot roast on the line.”

\---

Nursey fits into Dex’s life like he was made to be there and Dex has a lot of very confusing feelings about it.

In Nursey’s defense, he does seem to be on his best behavior for the whole week he visits and it’s not going unnoticed. He’s polite to Dex’s mom and jokes around with his dad, although he does get himself banned from the garage after he trips over a toolbox and all that saves him from going through a windshield is Dex’s quick reflexes.

He’s good with the littles, the many nieces and nephews that the Poindexter family has generated, as a large family with a high percentage of successful matches tends to do. Nursey mostly sticks to Dex’s side, looking to him for approval or guidance when he’s unsure, which makes Dex feel all kinds of things that he’s not looking at too closely right now.

“So, was it as painful as you thought, being out of your big city for a while?” Dex asks while the two of them are spreading a blanket in the flatbed of his truck at the Fourth of July picnic.

“Oh, it’s been terribly painful, I’ve been a minute away from hitchhiking back the whole time. The only thing that’s kept me here are Daphne’s lemon bars, otherwise I’d be long gone.” Nursey pulls a couple of thermoses out of the backpack and settles with his back against the cab. “And the promise of watching some rabid New Englanders fuck some shit up with fireworks.”

Dex opens his mouth to retort, pauses, and then says, “Yeah, I can’t even argue with that. The guy who designs the firework show only has seven fingers.”

“ _ Dude. _ ”

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy, I used to babysit his kids. Everyone always focuses on the fingers. He didn’t lose ‘em from fireworks, but that’s another story.” Dex sits back next to Nursey and takes a thermos of hot chocolate. The temperature has dropped after sunset and it’s a bit chilly, so he’s grateful for the blanket, the company, and the drink.

“That sounds like a  _ fantastic  _ story – “ Nursey cuts off suddenly when Dex claps a hand over his mouth.

“I’m not telling you about how he lost his fingers, Derek, that’s morbid and –  _ gross _ .” Dex jerks his hand back when Nursey licks his palm. He scowls, trying not to laugh when Nursey winks at him.

“I can’t be tamed, Poindexter, you know this about me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I should’ve known.” Dex looks down at his hands, the thin white scars that crisscross them, and the flush of color that decorates them, visible only as shadows painting his skin in the dark. “Hey, Nursey?”

“Mm?” Nursey looks over at him, face buried in the thermos of hot chocolate.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Nursey lowers the thermos slowly, eyes boring into Dex’s face. Dex drops his gaze back to his hands because if he has to look at that soft expression for any longer, he’s going to lose his mind. “Just, you know. Wanted you to know that. I’m really glad you came. I know we’re not super exciting and there isn’t a ton to do in town, but I’m really, really happy that you’re here.”

“Dex –“

“And I wanted you to know,” Dex barrels on, because if he doesn’t get this out now he’s afraid he’s never going to, and that it’s going to stay inside him and fester forever, “That after everything that happened, I’m sorry for yelling at you, and for not listening to you, and just – for being an asshole in general, okay? You’re my best friend and the worst few weeks of my life were when I thought I’d lost that.”

Nursey blinks at him and then clears his throat noisily. “Worse than the first week after Chowder discovered the burrito station in the dining hall?”

“God, no. Nothing’s worse than that. I take it back.” Dex grins at Nursey and it only gets wider when he gets another one of those soft smiles in return. “But, I just wanted to tell you that I’m glad you’re here.”

“Well, you know.” Nursey dips his head and looks back up at Dex through his eyelashes and wow, when did they get so close to each other? “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Really?” It’s embarrassingly breathy and Dex feels like he stepped out of a romance novel but Nursey’s face is  _ so close _ to his and for all that they’re in the middle of a field it feels like there’s not enough oxygen between them.

“Yeah, of course.” Nursey takes a sharp breath in and Dex swears he can feel the movement of the air against his mouth. “Will, I –“

An earth-shaking  _ BOOM!  _ rings out, so loud Dex feels it in his chest and they both jerk back from something Dex has a hard time believing almost happened. A single firework explodes across the sky, shattering into sparks of gold. They watch as four more are shot out in varying intervals, exploding into bright colors at a distance that probably isn’t far enough to be totally safe.

Dex tears his eyes away from the show as the explosions come closer together and watches Nursey, mouth slightly open in an awed smile, as light plays across his face in a myriad of colors. Dex sits on his hands to keep them where they are, but presses his shoulder more firmly into Nursey’s, and is gratified when he feels the gesture returned.

It’s a good Fourth of July.

\---

The new school year starts with chaotic practices with both Ransom and Holster as captains, new frogs driving Lardo nuts with questions, and Nursey alternating between driving Dex up the wall with annoyance and shooting him soft smiles. It’s incredibly confusing but watching the way Chowder tries desperately to answer all of Tango’s questions almost makes it worth it.

Standing in the kitchen helping Bitty put together a team breakfast gives Dex that same warm feeling he’s gotten used to, even as Holster comes around to steal bites of food and Nursey uses his puppy eyes to weasel extra bits out of Bitty.

Something has changed since the last time Dex and Nursey played together. Maybe it’s how they communicate, or it might be that the lingering scraps of ego that used to put distance between them have been swept away.

No matter what it is, it’s gone and the two of them are playing better than they ever have, moving as one on the ice, stopping even Bitty from getting in close to the goal. Dex hip checks him but Bitty just shakes it off with a laugh, making Holster and Ransom cheer. When Dex grins at Nursey, he gets a thumbs up in return, and Dex feels his cheeks heat in the chill of the rink. He skates off to try and leave that flushed feeling behind.

He completely misses the exasperated look Chowder gives Bitty, as well as the hand that Bitty drops on Chowder’s shoulder in commiseration.

It’s a great way to start the year.

\---

“I need a favor.”

Dex looks up from his textbook at the clatter of a lunch tray on his table. “Hi, Lardo,” he deadpans, “it’s good to see you, too. No, you can definitely sit, I’m just reviewing for an exam. Please, what can I do for you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lardo snaps back. It makes Dex grin; there’s few people he can be his complete asshole self around, and Lardo’s one of them. It is undeniably satisfying.

He closes his textbook. “What’s the favor?”

“It’s for an installation, mixed media using video this time rather than photography. I want to use a small loop rather than a full short film, to show fluidity and movement in soulmarks. I’m still playing around with colors and I want you to be one of my models.”

“Uh, okay.” Dex blinks a little and looks down at the table before meeting her eyes again. “Not really sure why I’d be at the top of your list, but fine.”

Lardo’s face is largely impassive, but he thinks he catches a small wince. “Well, that’s where the favor comes in. I’m going for a series of monochromatic pieces, or similar enough. So, I know things have been a little weird between the two of you, but in terms of your coloring, Nursey’s really –“

Dex groans and drops his head to the sticky table. “ _ Fuck _ , Lardo, really? We’re – we – well, we’re finally back to something normal, and you want to have him painting me?”

“Yes, Dex,  _ really. _ ” Lardo crosses her arms and glares at him. “If it’s too weird, you don’t have to do it. Something’s been going on between the two of you, and I don’t completely understand it but I don’t want to be the one to make things worse. If you don’t want me to poke around, then I won’t. But I know it’ll look good, and I know your mark is going to show up wonderfully in the footage, so if you agree, it’ll mean a lot to me.”

This, more than anything else, gives Dex pause. “You want to use my mark?”

“I want to use a lot of marks, but yeah, your soulmate mark in particular.” She leans forward and makes sweeping gestures with her hands. “It’s so fluid, dude. Like, I don’t know if you’ve taken the time to really watch it, but it’s always shifting. It’s  _ gorgeous _ , and I know you hate it, so I’ve never said anything ‘cause I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but yeah. It’s something special.”

Dex sits back and really thinks about it, because this isn’t something that’s ever crossed his mind. Everyone’s ignored his mark before, unless they were going to say some shit about it, and he’s mostly been glad for it to go largely unremarked. But if Lardo wants to get something good out of it? He’s not going to be an asshole and say no.

“Okay, fine.” He opens his textbook again and goes back to reviewing. “I’ll do it.”

Lardo gives him a look. “It’s not going to be too weird?”

Dex thinks about sitting still while Nursey touches him, spreading his soul color all over his skin. Thinks about being marked by him in an unavoidable, undeniable way, being flooded with his color. He clears his throat and shifts a bit in his seat. “It might be weird. But you’re not asking me to talk to him, you just want him to mark me. I can do that.”

She stands up, smiling, and steals his cup of coffee. “This is why you’re my second favorite frog.”

His head shoots up. “Wait,  _ second _ favorite?” She keeps walking away and just waves over her shoulder at him as she goes. “Who’s your favorite? Is it Nursey? Lardo?  _ Lardo? _ ”

\---

Dex is uncomfortable from the moment he arrives at the studio Lardo has reserved, and he can’t imagine that feeling going away any time soon. He stands outside the studio for a minute before deciding that a building certainly isn’t going to intimidate him out of helping his friend, and entering.

He steps into a large, open room with one wall strung up with white fabric and heads over to where Lardo is bullying some film major into letting her touch their camera.

“Hi! Dex!” She’s slightly less sleep deprived than the last time he helped her with an art project, but not by much. He eyes the huge thermos she has, wondering if anyone has the courage to regulate her caffeine intake. “Don’t even think about it. Go put these on.” She shoves a small bag at him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He ducks back out into the hall and into the small bathroom, stripping down and pulling on…white boxer briefs. He shakes the bag out, then blinks and sticks his head out into the hall to see if he dropped anything behind him. Nope. Just the underwear. Dex sighs and goes back into the studio, dropping his clothes on his bag before crossing to where Lardo’s now talking to Nursey, the appropriately cowed film major scowling and adjusting the camera settings a safe distance away. Dex stands behind Nursey with his arms crossed over his chest and frowning until Lardo looks at him and makes a satisfied noise.

“Good, they fit. I wasn’t sure I got the right size.” She jerks her chin to a metal stool situated in front of the white backdrop. “Go sit, I’ll come over with instructions in a minute.”

Dex drops his arms to the side and sighs again. “Fine.” He steps past the both of them and settles on the stool while Nursey makes a strange choking noise behind him. He taps his foot against the metal rung of the stool and waits impatiently for Lardo and Nursey to make their way over, feeling terribly exposed.

“Okay, since Nursey’s finally here and no longer giving me grey hairs, we can get started.” Nursey makes an offended noise that changes into a pained one when Lardo rabbit-punches him. “Now come here so I can move you around like life-sized Ken dolls.”

Lardo pokes and prods to move them around, the short white gloves she wears making sure she doesn’t mark either of them, and it is incredibly awkward until Nursey meets Dex’s eyes and they both have to look away to stifle a laugh. She arranges them so Nursey is standing between Dex’s legs, arms crossed so neither of them touch each other before they’re meant to, and then goes back behind one of the cameras. She looks at the angles the cameras are giving her and then turns Dex a little more so his mark is facing the camera more directly.

“Wait a second,” Dex frowns at Nursey and then looks to Lardo, “Why does Nursey get sweatpants and all I’ve got is underwear?”

“Because we’re not focusing on his sweet, sweet bod, we’re going to be looking at yours. Shush.” Lardo fiddles with the camera to the consternation of the film major and then comes back over to talk to the both of them. “We’re going to start as soon as you’re ready. Nursey, I want you to start from his legs and move your way up, in whatever way feels natural for you. You don’t have to do his whole face, I don’t want him looking like an alien and his freckles are just too cute to cover up, but a couple marks to tie everything together would be nice. You may or may not cover any marks he has currently, that has more to do with the age of the marks and your relationship to each other than anything I’d be able to influence. You can chat if you want, we’re not going to be picking up any sound, but no fighting or I swear to all that’s good in this world, I will toss you both naked out onto the ice and let the peewee kids at you with their sticks and skates.” Dex shivers at the image.

Nursey winks at him and says, “Don’t worry, Dex, I’ll make sure to color inside the lines.”

“Fuck you, Derek.”

“Only if you ask nicely,  _ William _ .”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Lardo scrubs her hands over her face. “This was a mistake. Alright, just. Start, please. We’ll get what we can.”

Dex shakes out his arms and puts a hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing, forcing himself to relax. The chill smirk on Nursey’s face wobbles a little and he watches Dex for a second before he asks, “Can I?”

Dex tries to speak and can’t get anything out around the lump in his throat, so he just nods instead. His mouth goes dry as Nursey drops to his knees and starts running his hands over Dex’s shins and feet, saturating them in that rich burnt sienna. He watches as Nursey fills his skin in with color, going over each inch carefully so he doesn’t miss any spots or mark Dex unevenly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dex can see that the white backdrop begins to turn a similar shade of dark orange, the color staining the sheet and seeping upwards from the bottom. It probably would look really cool if he could tear his eyes away from the way Derek is carefully, almost reverently touching him. As it is, he feels as though someone has lit a fire under his skin and every time Nursey’s fingers land the feeling glows brighter.

Nursey finally looks up as he reaches Dex’s knees and the shaky, uncertain smile on his face makes Dex’s heart hurt. “Are you doing okay?” Nursey pauses at Dex’s knees as he asks his gentle question.

“Yeah,” Dex’s voice is hoarse and he clears his throat to try and clear the scratchiness from it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

Nursey scoffs and shakes his head, the tips of his ears tinted red, “I’m having the time of my life, man,” before continuing on. As he moves up Dex’s thighs Dex feels himself tense up and desperately searches his mind for something, anything, to take his mind off of the fact that Nursey is methodically mapping his thighs with his hands. Remembering the smell of his uncle’s boat with dead fish in mid-summer actually works pretty well.

His breathing quickens as Nursey moves up towards the edge of the underwear he was given, palms flat on his thighs and grip firm as he presses his color into Dex’s skin. His thumbs drag up Dex’s inner thighs and once again, Dex feels like a puddle of gasoline that someone has dropped a match into. He hangs on to the edge of the stool in an effort to stay still.

Nursey, in a small act of mercy, finishes with Dex’s thighs rather quickly and uses them to lever himself up to stand between Dex’s legs. He walks around to Dex’s back, the film major moving to follow him with the camera, and Dex can feel Nursey’s palms slide up over his spine. It feels more intimate with Nursey behind him where Dex can’t track him, and it makes Dex all the more aware of where they’re touching.

“You’re so tense, dude. You’ve gotta relax a little.” It’s a tease Nursey has used before, but his voice has lost its teasing edge. He just sounds concerned, and if Dex thinks about that too hard while Nursey’s doing what he’s doing, he’s going to lose his mind.

“Mm.” Dex feels his muscles relaxing against his will under Nursey’s gentle touch and just decides to go with it, sighing into the comfort that Nursey’s touch provides. He feels like putty or clay in Nursey’s hands, warm and melting into his touch. Nursey’s palms slide in broad strokes over the muscles of his back, and Dex closes his eyes as he sinks into the feeling.

His eyes shoot open when Nursey laces their fingers together, making sure to get all the creases between Dex’s fingers and ensuring that Dex leaves his own olive marks on Nursey. He slides both hands up Dex’s forearm, clasping it briefly so that they’re clutching at each other before moving up to his shoulder. Dex watches, enraptured, as the marks that had been on his arms from other members of the team disappear. Plum, sky blue, grass green, gold, and teal all disappear under Nursey’s hands, but instead of feeling adrift, Dex just feels safe. Secure. Like nothing can happen to him while Nursey’s standing here, holding him.

Nursey traces delicate fingers over Dex’s collarbone, following the lines of the bone across his chest, stopping just before the mark high up on Dex’s shoulder. Nursey moves back down to Dex’s other hand, lacing their fingers together again, then bringing Dex’s palm up to his cheek.

Dex inhales sharply as he cups Nursey’s cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb caressing Nursey’s cheekbone like they’re alone rather than being recorded on video, and his breathing doesn’t get any easier when Nursey closes his eyes and appears to nuzzle into the touch.

Nursey lets Dex’s palm go and continues up his other arm, sheathing it in warm orange color. When he gets up to Dex’s mark he pauses and then almost grinds his palm into it, as if Nursey were trying to wipe out the color of the mark and replace it with his own. It doesn’t work, obviously, the dark maroon color undulating slowly and untouched by Nursey’s ministrations, but something stings in Dex’s eyes when he sees the intense look on Nursey’s face and the firm set of his mouth while he glares at Dex’s mark.

Nursey blinks and his face smooths out again, dropping his hands to his sides as he looks at Dex, almost completely colored-in now except for his chest and face. He steps closer into the vee of Dex’s legs and settles a large, warm palm on Dex’s hip, making him shiver all over again. He drags both his palms up Dex’s sides, apparently spending time counting the freckles dotting Dex’s chest before moving closer to color over his abs, which is entirely too close to Dex’s dick for Nursey to miss how incredibly interested it is in the proceedings. He doesn’t say a word, though, just sways closer as his hands drag up over Dex’s pecs. He spends a bit more time on Dex’s collarbone, attention caught in the dip between the bone and his trapezius muscle, before following the tendons of his neck up to grasp his jaw. His palm slides up in a mirror of the mark Dex has left on him and tilts Dex’s face to look up at him, dragging his gaze away from the place over Nursey’s shoulder he’s been staring at and meeting his eyes for the first time in what feels like ages.

For the third or fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, Dex’s breath completely leaves his body. Nursey’s eyes are dark, filled with hunger and want and some soft feeling that Dex is honestly afraid to name. The most unnerving part is the absolute certainty he has that Nursey is seeing the exact same thing when he looks at Dex.

Nursey drags his finger over Dex’s cheekbone and says, “I’ve spent hours looking at you, but I could look for hours more and not get tired.”

Dex abruptly breaks the moment by snorting, half in disbelief and the rest out of sheer stress.

“It’s true,” Nursey frowns as he says it and brings his other hand to trap Dex’s face in his grasp. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours before. The way you look at me, the way your eyes shine. I’ve written an embarrassing amount about the tilt of your smile. It’s gorgeous.”

“Nursey,  _ stop _ ,” Dex gasps out, just shy of overwhelmed and unable to look away from the desperate expression on Nursey’s face. “You can’t – “

“I can. Because it’s true.” But Nursey drops his hands to Dex’s shoulders, then skims down his arms to take his hands before stepping back. “But I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

Dex stares at him, their hands still clasped, outstretched between them. “I – you. I have to – go. Now.” He drops their hands and stalks over to his clothes, pulling on his joggers and his shirt, shoving his feet into his shoes before he takes off out the door and across campus.

He hopes desperately that Lardo got the footage she needed because he’s never stepping foot in that studio again.

\---

“Dex!  _ Dex! _ ”

Dex skids to a halt along the edge of the pond, breathing hard from his sprint from the studio. The ducks squawk and flutter their wings in offense, scattering. Dex stares at his feet, stuffed into his sneakers awkwardly, and sighs. He can feel his socks bunched up strangely and he shifts, trying to straighten them out without taking his shoes off, and just succeeds in making them even more awkward.

He sighs again and runs his hands over his face, scrubbing hard. He sinks down into a crouch, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars. Any calming effects the action may have are negated when he pulls his hands away and sees the solid orange color covering them.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,  _ Will! _ ” Nursey bounds up to him, clutching at his side and towering over Dex, still crouched on the bank. Dex glances up from the orange –  _ burnt sienna  _ – saturating his vision only to see the absolutely devastated look on Nursey’s face. Guilt and fear make him drop his gaze back to his hands, then his shoes out of self-preservation. A wave of dizziness puts him back on his ass, breathing heavily with his head between his legs.

“Hey, Will, you just have to breathe, it’s okay. I’m here for you.” A warm hand lands in the middle of Dex’s back, rubbing gently. The shiver it causes doesn’t help with the dizziness, and Dex keeps his head where it is, letting out a shaky breath.

“You know, I’m usually the one trying to talk you down from a panic attack.” Dex’s voice manages to stay level despite the emotional turmoil he’s currently dealing with, which he considers a major win.

Nursey snorts softly. “I know, it feels weird being on this side of things. But you shot out of the studio like a bat out of hell, so I figured I should come and check on you.”

Dex lifts his head up and scrubs at his face with his hands again. “I know, I’m sorry. It was just a lot, at the end there.”

Nursey is quiet for a minute, still rubbing Dex’s back. “We can pretend I never said anything if that’s easier.”

“Why would that be any easier?” Dex lets out an empty laugh and tips his head towards Nursey. “If we didn’t talk about it, you would just be sitting there, feeling those things, and I would be sitting here, feeling the exact same way, and nothing would happen. Well, almost the exact same way, I’m not nearly as good at poetry, but – “ He stops abruptly as Nursey puts a hand over his mouth.

Nursey’s looking at him, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. He closes his mouth with a snap and clears his throat softly before he says, “The same way?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Dex says, tugging Nursey’s hand away from his mouth, “C’mon, Nurse, even you can’t be oblivious enough to have missed me falling ass over teakettle for you over the last year. I’m pretty sure Chowder wants to punch me, I know for  _ sure _ Lardo does.”

“Bitty has said before he wants to knock our heads together, but I thought he was talking about the arguing.” Nursey twists his hand to lace their fingers together, sitting in Dex’s lap. “I thought I’d scared you away, before. And that’s why you ran.”

“What? No, Derek. I was – overwhelmed. And mortified, I was in my  _ underwear  _ and you were saying pretty things to me. What was I supposed to do?” Dex rubs his thumb over the back of Nursey’s hand. “You really thought you scared me away?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Nursey mutters with a rueful smile. He gestures towards the mark on his temple with his other hand, and Dex frowns. “If last winter taught me anything, it’s that I’d rather have you here, as my friend, than try and push you into something you don’t want and drive you away.”

“Nursey, that’s – “ Dex doesn’t even have the words to finish the thought, the idea of leaving Nursey is so awful to him. He just shakes his head and leans in, close enough to hear the catch in Nursey’s breathing when he ghosts his lips in a featherlight kiss over the mark on Nursey’s temple. The vibrant olive mark highlights the delicate periwinkle one, and they both make Nursey’s eyes look bright and shining. Though, that might be the tears starting to gather there, and Dex leans in to kiss one away when it starts to slide down a dear cheek. “You couldn’t drive me away.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that.” Nursey laughs thickly, wiping at both his eyes with his free hand. “You’re too stubborn by half, Poindexter.”

“Something like that,” Will murmurs, playing with Nursey’s fingers. He clears his throat, one last confession trying to claw its way out, before resigning himself to it. “I thought you wouldn’t want me. As a friend, or – or as anything else. Once you’d found out.”

“Found out about what? That you’re a huge dork? I knew that one already.”

Dex shoves at Nursey and gestures at his other shoulder with his free hand. “No, about the mark. Not everyone wants to date, um. Damaged goods.”

Nursey’s eyes flash dangerously and his mouth sets into a hard line before he says, “Who told you you were damaged goods?”

Will rolls his eyes. “C’mon, Derek. You know that’s what everyone thinks about people like me.”

“No, it’s not. And if they do, then those people are wrong and  _ stupid _ .” Derek, not even focusing on Dex now, delves into a rant about the ridiculousness of people who judge other peoples’ relationships because they’re different from their own, and it’s only when he starts citing text from memory to support the validity of non-soulmate relationships from both literature and historical records that Dex just lets it wash over him and smiles, watching this beautiful boy defend him to absolutely no one, certain that he’d do so until his last breath.

Of course, Will has never been one to sit by and just let things happen to him, so instead of waiting for Derek to pause for breath, he just slides one hand around the back of Derek’s neck and when Derek turns to look at him in stunned silence, pulls him in for a kiss.

He can feel Derek’s lips under his own, soft and slightly open in surprise, and Will barely gives him time to react before pulling back. He opens his mouth, whether to defend himself or provide an explanation he isn’t sure, but before he can say anything, Derek makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat and surges forward to kiss Will again.

Their second kiss is not so gentle, both of them pressing into each other with an intensity born from years of waiting and doubt. Derek’s free hand comes up to fist in Will’s hair and hold him close, Will’s is twisted into Derek’s shirt, while their two entwined hands just tighten around each other. Will licks into Derek’s mouth, swallowing the little noises he makes and pressing closer like he couldn’t possibly get close enough.

When they eventually break for breath, they’re both panting, Will half in Derek’s lap, and Derek’s hair is a mess, not to mention the olive marks that now dot his face and neck. Derek himself looks supremely smug, and it makes Will want to kiss him all over again.

“Just so you know,” Derek says, faux casual while he runs his fingers thoughtfully over Will’s soul mark again and again, “Even though I can’t give you a permanent mark, I plan on giving you a new one every day for the rest of our days. I hope that’ll be enough.”

Will can feel himself blush but rolls his eyes for the sake of keeping up appearances. “You’re ridiculous and sappy. It’s gross.”

“You know you love it.” Derek grins at him, wide and certain in his pronouncement, and he takes Will’s breath away with how beautiful he is.

“Yeah,” Will breathes, once again sounding like someone out of a romance novel and not hating it at all. “Yeah, I do.” And he leans in to taste Derek’s smile.

William Poindexter won’t ever find his soulmate.

He doesn’t have to. What he has is better than that would ever be.

Just ask his boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> I have this all written out, so I should post the rest of it within a week or so! Kudos and comments are my favorite things, let me know what you think <3


End file.
